Wednesday, June 12, 2013

A dead end day


Do I train myself to walk
longer and harder, or do I give
in to pain
the end of season
accumulation of waste
the run-down feeling
that cares not
what comes next?

I'm worried for
everything these days
the sun not hot enough
the wind way too heavy.

Now that no one needs me
I need more than this
this empty cupboard feeling
this stay-in-place pace
no metronome except a death toll
waiting to end my days.

Greens will fade into gray in a few weeks
and nothing will catch my eye
as I drive
down the same old street
to the same old pharmacy
for the same
medications that will cover up the fear
of another day
adding another minute
to the unknown sum
that will be inscribed on the
last shard holding down my days.

14 comments:

  1. I'm not in this mood; but I know this mood. I see it all around me, and when we see it on someone else's face we get concerned, helpful, jumping in with salve.

    Salve, salvation, all we want is a peaceful end, right?
    We tend not to talk about dark feelings.
    We tend to hide the compost pile.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think it's visible to those who have been there and gelt it, otherwise how can you write of it, or recognize it in others? I also feel it and see it...when loss or closeness to death has touched us, then we tend to see things this way...this is beautiful, Rosaria...really nail-on-the-head....

      Delete
  2. Now that no one needs me
    I need more than this
    this empty cupboard feeling
    this stay-in-place pace
    no metronome except a death toll
    waiting to end my days.

    so sad. and you are right in that it can be easy slip into when we lose purpose in life...feel unneeded..ugh...makes me ache a bit...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think the ache is necessary; otherwise where is everything? Buried under the daily "medications" that might not be from a pharmacy but numb the senses nonetheless: family, tv, a glass of wine, being busy...

      Delete
  3. Own those feelings then move on and help someone else.

    ReplyDelete
  4. We all have such moments, Rosaria, especially when companions of childhood and young adulthood are leaving us with such sad regularity. I do have these dark thoughts, too, of dreading infirmity and loss of independence, hoping the end will be fast and not lingering. It's what whispers to us in between all the joy we feel with friends and families and yet another summer.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I got a senior newspaper in the mail today. Most of it was ads for retirement homes. I threw it away.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I so respect your honesty. Near you in age, I tend to gloss over sadness without even realizing that I do that. But when I read your poetry, I recognize those feelings. I've been there, even if I do start spooning icing over as quickly as I can. Sometimes one small interest helps. Right now, I'm reading Richard Rohr. Do you know Falling Upward?

    ReplyDelete
  7. I'm glad to know you are not in this mood, but I too know this mood. You captured a feeling I've had but could not put words too with this:"this empty cupboard feeling
    this stay-in-place pace." I think that it is so hard to be in this stage of life at times. It is especially hard when we have had great loss.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I've been talking to friends about what we can do to continue to grow and change and contribute as elders. And I was listening to Hilary Clinton this morning who was describing the simple things that can lead to dramatic, life-long growth in babies and toddlers, like reading and talking to them. Mothers are working and busy, couldn't elders, separate from care-givers, do this wherever these little ones are? Wouldn't that be an important, even vital, contribution that would also combat the empty cupboard feeling you describe by providing this life-changing intervention?

    ReplyDelete
  9. I know this day will come and I don't know how I will face it. Probably try to write a poem half as beautiful as yours. Many thanks.

    Greetings from London.

    ReplyDelete
  10. i think we must give away with one hand
    and receive with the other.

    have you read simone weil's gravity and grace? i think you must. it is not easy and there might be many days when not one word enters. but rosaria, when the words to cross the barrier, how you will see! it is impossible to be un-well when allowing the barriers to crumble. (but yes, of course, on my own journey my ego takes form again between these periods of grace and i fall. and so the work begins again leading to ever sweet moments of grace.)

    xo
    erin

    ReplyDelete
  11. but it is in the compost pile that hides the richest of ingredients which nourish the soil....and if properly understood, the soul.

    ReplyDelete
  12. So many of us are death-mutes. But now you, brave little Rosaria!

    ReplyDelete